For the Weary
by authenticaussie
Summary: Game night changes sometimes, when someone's too tired to play.


**AN:** **there's a mas imzy group and they do reqs and _i love mas and i love reqs and so im basically screwed_**

 **Here, this was a req for marco and hurt/comfort**

* * *

When he opened the door to his apartment and spotted Ace and Sabo sprawled on his couch, his first thought was an exhausted, confused, _what_?

The next was a long, drawn-out groan, coupled with, _fuck, I forgot_.

He half wanted to turn around and go back outside, taking the hour to himself that he'd longed for since he'd gotten up at 4am and hadn't been able to get back to sleep, but they'd both spotted him and he pulled on a smile, watching them light up.

"Hey Marco!" Ace said with a grin, twisting so he could lean over the back of the couch. Marco felt a pang in his chest at the sight of Ace's obvious delight, guilt resting heavy next to his heart.

It wasn't fair that he'd been looking forwards to this for weeks – that he loved spending time with them so much – and yet couldn't find it in himself to offer an honest smile, exhausted by the day's events. No matter how much he wanted to spend time with them, his muscles seemed to have a magnetic attraction to his bed that only grew as he dumped his bags inside the doorway.

"Good evening," he said softly, forcing his feet to the kitchen so he could grab a snack, and missed how Ace's face fell, and the glance he shared with Sabo.

He didn't, however, miss when Ace's arms looped around his stomach and pulled him into a hug, nor Sabo in front of him, gently grabbing his cheeks and staring into his eyes.

He blinked, surprised by the sudden contact, and Ace tightened his grip as though he expected Marco to fight his way out.

"Did you sleep last night?" Sabo asked, squinting at Marco and tugging his head down to get closer, and Marco felt his cheeks prickle, shifting awkwardly.

"Yes-?" he offered, unsure on how easily he'd be able to get away with a lie. Annoyingly enough, they usually picked up on it, and though this was mainly the truth, he was also sure that Sabo wouldn't believe him. Judging from the annoyed expression on Sabo's face, and the (frankly adorable) wrinkle of his nose, Marco figured that Sabo had figured out his white lie. "I slept for most of it?" he tried again, and Sabo let go of his cheeks with a sigh, turning on his heel and into Marco's small kitchen.

Marco frowned, watching him vanish into the kitchen, but then gave his head a short shake and instead glanced down to Ace's arms, still entangled around his waist. He gently prodded Ace's forearm, but Ace stubbornly tightened his grip, burying his cheek against Marco's back. "You're just gonna start moving if I let go," he mumbled grumpily, and Marco almost laughed.

"Well yes, generally I do that after I get home from work because I have a lot of stuff I need to finish, yoi."

"Not tonight," Sabo said, breezing out of the kitchen with a plate of food they'd obviously bought with them earlier. He placed his hand on Marco's chest and pushed gently, making Marco sigh before giving in. He could feel Ace's grin against his back when he started moving back to the couch, and in half a moment found his thighs hitting the back of the couch.

"I'm not getting up if I get on the couch," he warned, and Ace shrugged from behind him, flopping onto the couch and then tugging Marco's hand until he sat down as well.

"Eh, that's why you've got us."

Sabo grinned at Ace's words, and handed Marco the plate he was holding. "Wanna have movie night instead of game night?" he asked as Ace shifted until he was more comfortable, prodding Marco until Marco was half-lying on Ace's shoulder and half-lying on the couch.

Marco hummed softly, already picking at the plate that Sabo had given him, before looking up and offering a tired, thankful smile. "That would be perfect, Sabo."

Sabo's grin brightened even further, and he hopped the few short steps to the T.V, fiddling with Marco's out-of-date DVD player and humming to himself as he browsed the movies piled on top of the cabinet. He made a short, amused noise, and grabbed a case, but Marco couldn't see what he grabbed and decided to leave him be, steadily making his way through the pile of food Sabo had given him. Ace had started to steal off his plate, but Marco couldn't be bothered defending it, knowing that most of it would go to Ace anyway – he wasn't often hungry late at night, and usually only had snacks lying around while he worked.

Sabo bounced back to the couch, flopping next to Marco and shifting restlessly until he found a comfortable position against Marco's side. "Got your favourite, bird brain," he said softly, the edge of fond teasing in his tone, and Marco tipped his head back to the ceiling to prevent the prickling flush he could feel on his cheeks being seen.

"I don't have a-"

"You totally do," Ace muttered from around a mouthful of potato chips, and Marco screwed his lips shut, trying not to feel flustered at how well they knew him. When the title sequence of _Valiant_ came onto his TV he sighed, rolling his eyes.

"It's not _technically_ my favourite," he protested mutinously, and Sabo laughed, grabbing the remote and pressing play.

"Sure it's not, Marco. Sure it's not."

He contemplated sticking out his tongue, but had a feeling it would only make both Sabo laugh harder, and Ace looked about three seconds away from shushing them both, captivated by the title sequence as easily as he always was.

Sinking further into the couch he slung an arm over Sabo's shoulders, dragging him just barely closer and tilting the plate Sabo had covered with food in silent invitation. Sabo hesitated for a moment, then grabbed a piece of chicken, snuggling closer, and Marco manoeuvred the plate so that it stayed balanced between his side and Ace's thigh.

Then, safe and comfortable – and, for the first time that day, marginally more relaxed – he drifted to sleep.


End file.
